


Bad Feeling

by queen_scribbles



Series: Straight Up Truth [12]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Post-KotET
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 08:29:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21268070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queen_scribbles/pseuds/queen_scribbles
Summary: The fallout from defeating Vaylin has some unintended consequences that hit close to home.





	Bad Feeling

**Author's Note:**

> Post-KotET Spy Nerds, feat. Jaaide having... well, a very very very bad day.

The relief that followed their ultimate victory remained an almost palpable sensation in the atmosphere of Odessen long after Vaylin’s death, Valkorion’s destruction, and the claiming of the Eternal Fleet. It lingered past Indo’s days-long celebration, past the initial stages of recovery, and long into the weeks that followed. There was still plenty to keep them busy, still a plethora of soldiers and aides scurrying around the Alliance base, focused on various tasks. But there was no longer the overhanging urgency and dread of their time fighting the Eternal Empire. Problems were much smaller scale, more easily solved by small, self-contained chains of command, and far fewer people were clamoring for their Commander to handle everything.

This, in turn, meant it took longer to notice when she chose to disappear. Usually that wasn’t a big deal; Jaaide was an exceptionally private and introverted person when given the choice. Sometimes being alone was necessary to recharge from all the hours spent with a smile on her face leading the Alliance. Today, though, Theron had a bad feeling about her absence. This time she was hiding because something was wrong, he just knew it.

A certainty that only increased when he didn’t find her in any of her usual quiet spots on-base. She wasn’t on her balcony, wasn’t on the rock at the far edge of her private landing area, or on the ship itself, wasn’t even down visiting Keke.

“Your mom’s hiding real good this time,” Theron muttered to the orobird, lightly kicking the wall in frustration.

Keke clacked her beak, ruffled her feathers, and head-butted the wall behind her treat dispenser. 

“Still a greedy thing, I see,” he snorted, but hit the lever to dispense a treat and tossed it to her. She snatched it out of the air and swallowed it whole with a muffled cackle-coo of approval. “I’m not petting you,” Theron said dryly when she looked at him and half-raised her headcrest. “Not after last time. I want to _keep_ all my fingers.”

Keke let out a sound jarringly similar to laughter and flapped her wings a few beats.

He shook his head. “I said no. And I don’t have time anyway; I need to find Jaaide. She’s been gone long enough I’m starting to worry.”

Finally accepting she couldn’t hold his attention, Keke flared her wings up--almost the (nefarious) bird equivalent of a shrug--and turned her back on him.

_Drama queen, _Theron rolled his eyes and turned away to keep looking. 

Which was when he noticed one of the speeder bikes missing from the vehicle bay. A check of the computer log confirmed Jaaide was the one using it. It only took a minute to download the ID code and log out a speeder bike of his own, and then Theron was off toward the stationary and slowly blinking tracker, torn between worry he’d be intruding and the steadily growing knot of concern in his gut.

\--

It took almost fifteen minutes to reach the speeder, parked in a clearing, and there was no sign of Jaaide nearby. But once Theron shut off his own speeder and the whine of its engine died away, he could hear quiet sniffling off to his left.

The knot in his gut twisted a little tighter.

He debated once again whether it was better to let her be before his deep-seated worry for the woman he loved won out. He wasn’t too obviously loud about his approach, but he wasn’t stealthy, either. She wasn’t far off, and Theron caught a brief glimpse of shaking shoulders before Jaaide stiffened at the sound of approaching footsteps.

“I knew I should’ve used Vette’s access codes for the speeder,” she said, a definite quaver in her voice, and she raised one hand to swipe at her face. “I didn’t think you’d find me so fast.”

“Never underestimate a worried boyfriend,” Theron said wryly. He paused a few steps back and crossed his arms to keep them from swinging awkwardly. “Noticed you pulled a better disappearing act than usual, wanted to make sure you were okay.” As if on cue, Jaaide sniffled and he winced. “Which you’re clearly _not_. I can go if you want me to...?”

“No.” Jaaide turned to look at him with red-rimmed eyes(had he ever seen her actually_ cry_ before?). “I did want to be alone, at first, but company... _your _company would be nice now.”

“Okay.” He approached and sat next to her, frowning at the goosebumps that covered her arms. “Aren’t you cold?”

She bit her lip. “I didn’t even notice...”

Theron huffed a sigh and shrugged off his jacket to wrap around her. “What’s wrong? Obviously something big if you didn’t even notice the temperature.”

Jaaide was quiet for a long moment, fingers rubbing the edges of the datapad in her lap.”...we got the final casualty confirmations from... from when Vaylin died.”

That ominous feeling at the edge of his senses pressed in stronger. “Bad, huh?”

She shook her head as she admitted, “I... I didn’t even look at the totals yet, But I’m sure it is.” She clenched her hands together, nails digging into her palms, her gaze stuck on the datapad screen. “Theron, I-I...”

The sentence died in a choked off sob as she buried her face in her hands and Theron couldn’t take it anymore. “C’mere.” He wrapped one arm around her shoulders, looped the other under her knees, and pulled her into his lap. She didn’t protest when he took the datapad, just curled in close, shoulders shaking as she cried. He tucked her head under his chin as he looked at the datapad.

It was a planet by planet list of the dead, missing, and wounded from the Eternal Fleet’s rampage while the Throne was unoccupied. Jaaide had pulled up Dromund Kaas, and Theron’s heart sank as he wondered how many friends and former co-workers she’d lost. Then his gaze landed on a pair of names in the top middle column of confirmed deceased and his heart _stopped_.

_ **Arien, Griph  
Arien, Petra** _

_Oh, **no**_. His arm instinctually tightened around her shoulders and he swallowed hard before, tentatively, “Jaaide, that’s not...”

“My parents,” she mumbled into his shirt, which was beginning to feel more than a little damp.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Theron dropped the datapad, not caring how much damage it sustained, and wrapped both arms around her to hold her close. “I’m so sorry.”

He meant it. His relationship with his own parents was, well, not great, but Jaaide had spoken highly of hers the few times they’d come up. They hadn’t exactly been warm-and-fuzzy close, from what he gathered, but supportive and encouraging nonetheless.

“Why?” Jaaide sniffled. “S’not your fault. Or mine. Or ev-even Arcann or Vaylin. It’s the damn Eternal Fleet’s base protocol. There’s _no one_ to blame, just a bunch of droids falling back on the baseline programming of _extermination_!”

Theron winced at the hurt in her voice. Not having a tangible place to lay blame had to make this even worse--like losing a loved one in a natural disaster or to an illness. There was no one to fight, no one to blame or forgive(whichever was more cathartic), it just_ was_. And the way it was_** sucked**_.

“I know.” He carded his fingers through her hair, trying to ignore the goosebumps rising on his arms. It _was_ chilly out here today, particularly under tree cover, but Jaaide was more important than his personal comfort. “I’m still sorry they’re.. gone, though. From what you’ve told me, they were pretty good parents.” Kriff, he didn’t know what to _say_, why was he so franging bad at this?!

As if sensing his struggle, Jaaide uncurled one hand from the folds of his shirt and rested it on his forearm. “They were. That’s really all that needs to be said.”

There was something in her voice, the way her thumb hesitated in rubbing against his skin, that made him skeptical, and that doubt escaped before he could rein it in. “Really?”

Jaaide’s shoulders hitched, breath catching sharp around another sob, and Theron wanted to smack himself._ Nice, Shan. Can’t keep your mouth shut even when the woman you love more than life itself is grieving. That’s real nice going._

But Jaaide shifted, taking several deep breaths, only slightly shaky. “I-I..” She pressed the back of the hand not resting on his arm to her mouth. “Theron, I can’t.... I-I can’t help feeling guilty...”

He frowned. That didn’t fit with what she’d just said; that this wasn’t her fault. “’Bout what?”

“I never... I-I hadn’t...” She sniffled, wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand. “The last time I talked to them was before the Wild Space Expedition.”

“Oh.” He hugged her tighter and this time kept his mouth shut.

“I know I _should_ have, especially after we established the Alliance and had a growing presence,” she continued, babbling now, “let them know I was alive and alright, but I was scared-” Jaaide abruptly cut herself off, hand splayed across his forearm, and leaned back to look up at him. “Now _you’re_ cold.”

He tried to brush off her concern. “Don’t worry about _me_, you’ve been out here longer.”

“Yes, but I now have a concerned--and_ wonderfully_ warm--boyfriend wrapped around me,” she countered, a faint note of bemusement under the ragged edge of grief. “You have no such benefit. You should have your jacket back.” She wriggled slightly in his embrace, squirming her way out of the garment in question so she could hand it over.

Accepting that she wouldn’t be dissuaded, Theron took the jacket and shrugged it back on. “You realize, by your logic, I’m not allowed to stop hugging you now,” he deadpanned as he wrapped his arms around her again. “Or you’ll get cold.”

“All according to plan,” Jaaide said, letting out a sound that was half giggle, half sob.

“You also realize I’m not that easily distracted, right?” Theron rubbed her arm as she settled back in. “What made you scared to talk to your parents after we founded the Alliance?” 

She sighed, snuggled close under his chin again. “Because... because they’re both dyed in the wool Imperial loyalists. Me breaking from the Empire to helm the Alliance is bad enough, but if they learned I’d defected to the Republic_ years _before that? That I was working as a double agent to bring down the government and society they’d sworn their lives to defend?” She paused, caught a quavering breath. “Theron, it would have broken their hearts and infuriated them in one fell swoop. They very likely would have disowned me and I...I didn’t want to cost them another daughter, I didn’t want to lose my family, so I just... kept putting off any attempt to make contact.”

“Jaaide, how would they possibly have learned you were working as a double agent?” he asked gently. “You and Kothe were the only ones who knew the identity of his “new agent”, and he’s always been so damn protective of his operatives, the_ SIS _didn’t know who worked for him half the franging time.”

“I don’t know,” she retorted, voice shaking. “It wasn’t a _rational_ concern, I was just afraid of_ losing_ my_ family_!” A hiccuping sob interrupted the words. “Which I _did anyway_, so now it seems extra foolish I didn’t contact them when I had the chance. Even if I let slip about being a double agent-”

“Which doesn’t seem likely,” Theron muttered, resting his chin against the top of her head, “you’re good at keeping secrets.”

“Comes with the job,” she mumbled, scrubbing her eyes again. “But even if I let slip and things ended on a sour note, I would’ve _talked _to them.”

“I’m well-acquainted with the twenty-twenty nature of hindsight, believe me,” he said wryly. “But you can’t dwell on it too long, Jaaide, you_ can’t_. That sort of thing’ll chew you up and spit you back out.” He hugged her closer. “And some of us would very much hate to watch that happen.”

He felt more than heard her wry snort. “Part of why I tried to hide in the woods while I broke down.”

“It’s not the breakdown we wouldn’t want to see,” Theron clarified. Hell, he’d already helped her through a couple of those after nightmares about Torian’s death that got a little too real. “There’s a lot riding on you, the occasional breakdown is_ okay_, especially to grieve something like this. Hell, it’s your _parents_, Jaaide. I don’t think there’s a single person in the Alliance who wouldn’t understand. What we wouldn’t want to see is you tearing yourself apart over something you can’t change.” He ran his fingers through her hair. “I’m sure they were proud of you.”

Jaaide pulled in a shaky breath. “I hope so.”

“Who wouldn’t be proud of _you_, sweetheart?”

Her hand, resting against his arm, gave a light squeeze. “You don’t think you’re maybe a tad biased?”

Theron chuckled. “Maybe a tad. Point is, I’m sure they were proud of you and loved you, even without more recent contact.”

Jaaide was quiet for a long moment, but he could feel the uneven breaths of her fighting tears before, softly, “...Thank you, Theron.”

He kissed the top of her head. “You’re welcome. I know I’m the last person to talk about family relationships, but even I can tell you that much about yours.”

She let out a small hum of gratitude and they lapsed into silence for several long minutes. For once in his life, Theron didn’t feel the least bit awkward with that. No snarky quips, no witty banter, no _doing_ anything beyond just being here for someone he cared about.

Eventually, Jaaide let out a final sniffle and sat back so she could meet his gaze. “Thank you,” she said, quietly, but with such fervency it warmed him. “I think the worst is over now.”

Theron doubted that--grief tended to run in circles, from his experience--but no point in being a downer. “Glad I could help.”

She slid one hand around the back of his neck to tug him in for a kiss, which tasted faintly of salt. “It was very much appreciated,” she murmured, resting her temple against his cheek. “But we should probably head back. They’ll start to worry, especially with both of us gone.”

“I dunno, both of us missing might be a pretty strong hint _why_ in and of itself,” he said playfully. She rolled her eyes and gave a watery smile as she whacked his shoulder. “Just ‘cause they’re wrong this time doesn’t mean it’s not a good _guess_,” he deadpanned. “But you’re right, we should head back. No rest for the wicked and all.. Also, you catching your death of cold after everything you’ve survived would be kinda ridiculous.”

Jaaide giggled, still shaky around the edges, but settling into the calm that rode between waves of grief. “Only kind of?”

“Alright, you’re right, it would be extremely and completely ridiculous. So let’s avoid that, shall we?”

She nodded and kissed his cheek one more time before they stood to make their way back to the speeders. Theron settled one arm around her shoulders as they walked, and Jaaide leaned in to the silent offer of continued support. Whatever the days ahead held, no matter how hard or dark, he’d have her back, and they both knew it.

How clearly she took comfort in that knowledge, he mused, was a very good feeling indeed.


End file.
